


The Cave

by babel



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-26
Updated: 2010-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-14 03:38:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babel/pseuds/babel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avon asked Vila to prepare the cave for his talk with Shrinker, and Vila couldn't say no. (Spoilers for Rumours of Death.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cave

> _\- You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.  
>  \- Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave?  
> \- True, he said; how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?_   
> 
> 
> Book VII of Plato's Republic

  
  
"You're sure about this," Cally said flatly. She'd stopped asking it as a question a couple of days ago, but still she _said_ it. As if she expected that Vila would come to his senses if she just said it often enough.

Vila, on the other hand, knew he'd lost his sense a long time ago, sometime after Blake had saved him from Cygnus Alpha. He'd even proven it by leaving a safe, comfortable life with Kerril for this.

For _this_ in particular. "Just teleport me down, Cally. Unless you'd like me to call Dayna in to do it for you, seeing as you don't want a part of it and all."

"I hope," Cally said, her eyes dark with ill humor, "that you think about what will happen in that cave. I hope you think about what you're helping him to do."

"I'm not thinking of anything else, believe me." Vila cast his eyes down at the crates near his feet. "Bring me back up for lunch in a couple hours, eh?"

Vila could feel Cally's eyes on him for a long moment before the Liberator dissipated around him and he felt a rocky floor replace the teleporter pad.

It was time to get to work.

________________

She was a pretty girl, Anna, though the image Avon had given him to work with was clearly some sort of identification photo. He could only imagine what she'd look like in person. The high cheekbones, the intelligent spark in her eyes, the coy little smile... Vila could certainly see how she could have a hold on someone like Avon.

He thought of Kerril again, for the fifth time today. He imagined waking up to her in a warm bed right now instead of setting up a lighting and projection system in a cold, nasty underground cavern.

An underground cavern with no route to the surface. No way out but the teleporter. Not even anyone to talk to, to get his mind off the task at hand.

Just the way Avon had planned it.

"I want you to do it alone," he'd said, with his back turned to Vila. Just now, Vila couldn't remember what Avon had been doing, exactly. He only remembered Avon's words and the back of his neck. "I expect your first impulse will be to turn me down because it involves both work and discomfort, but I..."

Avon paused, composing himself. He had been strange for days, even by Avon standards. Vila could see that there was something just under the surface that Avon wouldn't allow himself to show. Sometimes it peeked out, but only just enough that Vila was sure it was there, not enough that he could tell what it was.

"I would rather the others didn't see." Avon had turned to Vila then, his expression carefully blank.

Vila knew immediately that he wouldn't be able to say no. And even in the cave itself, Vila didn't wish he had.

"Bit foolish," Vila said to himself, the words echoing off the high cavern walls. "Wouldn't do anything like this for you, would he, Vila?"

No one answered. Of course no one answered. He sighed into the silence and pulled the projector out of its crate. He'd figured out the layout the first time he'd come down here. Drawn up a map and everything, but it turned out he didn't need it. It was burned into his mind, this cave. He doubted he'd ever forget it now.

He set the projector into place -- behind a rock just large enough to hide it. When he flicked the switch on, the wall lit up with her face.

The same pretty girl from the image on Avon's datapad, fed into the projector, blown up nearly three hundred times from the small original. It was a little overwhelming to look at her that size, peering out as if she could see everything that lay before her.

"I'll have to warn Avon about that," he muttered as he eyed the projection. Then he added, more loudly, "Yeah, Avon'll be here. I'm sure you'll be happy to see him, eh? Don't hold it against him if he looks a bit ragged. He's getting himself tortured for you just now."

Anna smiled out at him, unaffected.

"You and him have a lot in common, y'know. He looks at me just the way you are when I talk to him sometimes. I half expect you'll call me foolish next."

Vila pushed himself up to his feet and sighed heavily. Avon wanted some lighting around the teleport location, a few meters away from Anna. _Serpent green,_ he'd specified.

"Likes to put on a show even when no one's watching." Vila glanced back to Anna. "Aside from you of course. Sorry about that. It's not that I forgot you. No chance of that."

Grimacing, he hauled the green fill light to its spot and adjusted it so that it would shine on Avon and his prisoner when they teleported down -- he'd have to make sure to put them down in the same place Cally had put him down -- and flipped it on to see how it looked.

"That _is_ the point, though, Anna. Well, not entirely. It's not that he wants to forget you; it's just he has to let go. He blames himself, you know? I get the feeling he does, anyway. Not that he's ever told me exactly what happened." He paused, wondering if the stone floor was flat enough to fix the light stand on steadily. "See, to me you look like the sort of girl who knows exactly what she's getting into, but Avon doesn't think anyone sees any dangers as keenly as he does. He thinks he drew you into the whole mess. He thinks he killed you just as if he'd pulled the trigger."

Vila wet his lips. Talking to a dead woman's projection on the wall. He really was losing it, piece by piece, but he couldn't seem to shut himself up as he worked to set up one of the white fill lights.

"You chose it, though, didn't you Anna? Probably could've had an easier life, found someone easier to be with. A face like that, of course you could. Bet you had offers too. It was your choice to stay with Avon. Not like he's the best looking guy out there, or the nicest, or anything like that. But he's the sort you want to hold up so he doesn't fall." Vila watched her, looking as if she knew it all already. As if she was unaffected by his stories, because she knew the truth.

He ignored her accusing stare as he finished setting up the lights, finished programming everything so that it would respond to one remote. Though he wasn't the technician between them, he was confident he'd managed to fix it to Avon's specifications.

A few more days and Avon would be down here with the man who had tortured innumerable people to death. The man would die, and Vila was one of the agents of his demise.

It seemed like he should feel guilty. He almost wished he could, if only because Cally wanted him to, and he'd always found her to be one of the more reliable moral compasses he'd come across. Certainly more reliable than his gut or his heart or his head.

"Cally," he said into his bracelet.

After a beat, she answered. "Are you ready?"

"Just a moment."

Vila dropped his hand down to his side and looked at Anna once more. "If you could just let him go... I'd really appreciate it, okay?"

Anna didn't respond. She never would.

With a deep breath, he pressed the button on his remote and the cavern went dark again. "Bring me up, Cally," he said.

________________

Tarrant was the one who told him. When Avon was barely far enough away from the teleporter room not to overhear.

"He killed her," Tarrant said, almost laughing. "I would say I can't believe it, but--"

"Be quiet," Cally snapped, shooting a glare at Tarrant so intense that Vila took a step away from him.

Tarrant, on the other hand, merely lifted an eyebrow. "Defending him, are you? After thinking us all monsters for helping him, you're defending him?"

Cally narrowed her eyes, but she didn't answer. She stalked off in the direction that Avon had gone with her hands balled into fists.

"Could someone tell me--" Vila began, but Tarrant interrupted him.

"What's got into her?"

Dayna rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Tarrant, sometimes you're a pig."

"If he could kill someone he supposedly loved, what do you think he could do with the rest of us?" Tarrant shrugged. "All I'm saying is that the man is completely--"

"Someone _tell me_ what is going on!" Vila shouted, standing abruptly from the teleport controls.

Both Tarrant and Dayna stared at him.

"Who did Avon kill? What are you talking about?"

"Anna," Tarrant stated. "Or Bartholomew, I suppose I should say, despite her dramatic last words to the contrary."

Vila shook his head. "But. Anna's dead."

"Apparently not. Apparently, she worked for the Federation. Conned him back before he got here. I guess it was better to act as if she'd died than try and explain things to Avon. If the result's any indication."

A chill shot up Vila's spine. Anna had been alive. Avon killed her. He imagined that face he'd seen on the cave wall, the life in her eyes even though she was only a projected image. Avon had seen the life draining out of those eyes.

"You all right, Vila?" Dayna asked. She didn't sound concerned so much as confused.

Vila nodded numbly, his mind too soaked in alcohol to make sense of anything. That's why he'd had so much to drink, after all. "I've been up for ages. I'm going to bed."

Tarrant snorted. "And the rest of us haven't been up for ages?"

"I didn't say you couldn't sleep," Vila muttered on his way out of the teleport room. He could hear Tarrant making a retort, but he didn't listen to it. Probably more posturing for Dayna's sake anyway, and Vila didn't have the energy or the wherewithal to argue. All he wanted to do was crash into bed and leave the whole mess behind him for a few hours.

Except, once he got to bed, all he could do was stare at the ceiling.

Cally was right. Cally was _bloody_ right, and Vila hadn't listened to her. He wished he could go to her now and commiserate, or at least apologize, but it wasn't how their friendship worked.

He closed his eyes, covering his face with a pillow. If they hadn't allowed Avon his quest for revenge, this never would have happened. Sure, Avon would go on living with Anna's ghost, but at least that ghost was loyal and loving. The ghost he had now...

The comm near the door crackled with static, startling Vila almost out of his skin. He sat up in bed and stared at it. It crackled again. He half expected a woman's voice--Anna's voice--to filter through. To accuse him.

Instead, it was Avon's voice, quiet and emotionless. "Vila? Are you awake?"

Vila's heart was beating hard enough he could feel it in his fingertips. He scrambled out of bed and pulled open the door. Avon stood in the corridor, slumped and haggard as when he'd come back from that that Federation cell. He didn't look at Vila as he entered his cabin, shrugging off his jacket. Not that it was strange behavior for him, just Vila hadn't expected him tonight. Part of him hadn't expected Avon to be back any night.

After he closed the door, he leaned against it and watched Avon disrobe down to his pants. "You're inebriated, aren't you?" Avon asked, glancing at Vila for only a moment.

"A little, yeah. "

"Mm." Avon drew a deep breath, looking at the empty bed. "Perhaps you should sleep it off, then."

Vila wet his lips. "I... Tarrant told me what happened."

Avon went still for a moment, but only that. "I'd prefer not to discuss it." He looked at Vila. "Get back in bed."

"All right," Vila said slowly as he moved toward the bed and slid back under the covers. Avon was watching him consistently now, not just in glances, but his eyes were unfocused.

The silence was unbearable, but Vila couldn't think of anything to say. Or, he could, he just couldn't think of the _right_ thing to say.

Gradually, Avon approached the bed. Vila moved back to give him room, and Avon took it. He lay there for what seemed like an eternity, only a breath away from Vila.

"Turn around," Avon whispered, his brow crinkling as if the words hurt.

Vila studied Avon's expression. If it were any other man, Vila would expect he wanted to take him now, hard and cruel, to drive out his demons out. But Vila knew Avon. He knew Avon just needed to be in pain without being seen, and he turned onto his side to face the wall.

As soon as he did, Avon curled up against him, pulling him close. He felt Avon's knees press against his thighs and Avon's lips against his back where his shoulders met.

Neither of them spoke, and eventually, Vila fell asleep with Avon's breath hot on his skin.

________________

Avon was still against him when Vila woke a few hours later. It was a peculiar feeling, waking up with someone, and Vila wasn't sure he liked it.

Or, maybe he was, but he wasn't sure he liked liking it. Either way, he squirmed out of Avon's arms without waking him and escaped to the shower. He brushed his teeth quickly to wash out the taste of stale alcohol, then stripped down to stand under fresh, running water for a few minutes.

He wondered if his more privileged friends appreciated this little luxury. Certainly not Tarrant, but maybe Dayna. Maybe Avon too. It was hard to tell with Avon. One moment he was arrogant and sure of himself, and the next he was a little boy who needed comfort. Did either of those know he was lucky to have clean water whenever he wanted it?

Why was he thinking about this now, when Avon had just gone and killed the love of his life?

"Everything would've been fine if you'd just stayed dead," he muttered. "Just couldn't let him go, could you?"

The sound of water was loud in his ears. There wasn't even a voiceless image for him to talk to anymore. But she was there. She always had been.

"Now what are we supposed to do? Could you answer that, at least? Seems like you owe me that much."

He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to stave off the feeling of dread that was rising in him. Anna's unaffected smile seemed projected onto the backs of his eyelids instead of that cave wall now.

"It's not that much to ask, you know? Just--"

The bathroom door slid open, and Vila's heart jumped. He'd almost forgotten Avon was still there. Or, he'd taken for granted that Avon would leave as soon as he woke. Spending the night was odd enough, but staying through the morning?

Vila watched Avon's shadow at the sink, washing his face, rinsing out his mouth, before he kicked off his pants and pushed the shower door open to enter. Avon looked him over. "Were you talking to yourself?"

"No," Vila answered immediately. "Did you... did you hear something?"

"Your voice. Not the words."

"Oh. Good. I was --"

Avon put his hand on the small of Vila's back and pulled him close. His other hand cupped Vila's cheek, and he kissed him. Not an altogether affectionate kiss, but Vila could feel the need in it. He could feel the need all over Avon, but typically, Avon pulled away before the need had a chance to subside.

"Only her," he breathed.

Vila blinked at him. "What?"

"There's only her. No one else. Don't think that this--what we do--don't think that it is anything." Avon's eyes were dark, half mad, but Vila knew better than to be afraid for himself.

If he was afraid, it was for Avon. "I don't think anything."

"Right... Right." Avon whispered. He pressed his lips against Vila's again, then pulled back just enough to speak again. Their lips were still touching, and Vila could feel and taste his words as well as hear them. "I would destroy you."

"Is that what you think you did to her? To Anna?"

Avon drew back, as if stung. "I told you."

"You 'don't wish to discuss it,’ I know," Vila said quickly, to keep himself from giving in before he'd had his say. "We don't have to discuss. But I'll tell you, for once you're not the one in the wrong, so don't start beating yourself up now."

Avon's eyes were narrow, and the skin around them seemed stretched tight. "Are you finished?" he sneered.

"Mostly," Vila said, keeping his chin high though he was shaking from adrenaline. "Except, I'm not that easy to destroy. You think I am--everyone thinks I am--but I'm not."

"I don't think that," Avon said slowly.

"Then there's no problem is there?"

Avon pulled him closer and held him there for a long moment, with his cheek against Vila's until he dropped down to kiss Vila's shoulder. "Everyone," he said slowly, "has a breaking point."

"So, try me," Vila hissed into his ear.

He felt Avon's lips twitch against his skin, in a smile or grimace, he couldn't know. "I didn't come in here to talk."

"No," Vila said, and he ground his hips against Avon's. Avon gasped, then bit into Vila's skin. It was a message, an invitation really, and Vila took it. He pushed Avon against the tile wall. If Avon was desperate, Vila would be too, and neither of them had the upper hand. They were equals, gasping and moaning and thrusting helplessly, trying to keep their balance on the slippery shower floor.

By the time it was over, Vila had forgotten which one of them had shown up desperate, and which one was playing along.

________________

Cally didn't look up when Vila appeared on the flight deck during her watch. "How is he?"

Vila glanced down the corridor opposite the one he'd entered through, to make sure they were really alone. "Surviving."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Is that enough?"

"I suppose it'll have to be. What do you care anyway? You got proven right, didn't you?"

Now, Cally looked at him. "He is a friend. I do not care more about my correctness than his well-being."

"I know," Vila said, frowning. He wasn't sure why he'd attacked her at all. Maybe to get a rise out of her. "But you were, and I should've listened."

"It would not have made a difference."

"Probably not." Vila slumped onto the couch. "How did you know?"

"I didn't, exactly. But no good can come of an obsession like that." She furrowed her brow and looked back to the control panel.

Vila leaned his head back on the couch to look up at the ceiling. "D'you think I made a mistake? Not staying with Kerril?"

Cally sighed. "Do _you_?"

"No," Vila answered truthfully. He'd thought such certainty would be comforting, but it wasn't. "She wouldn't... _destroy_ me, but I didn't, well, you know."

"I know," Cally said.

He craned his neck to look at her. "Let's just hope Avon's not as good at predicting the future as you are."

Cally arched an eyebrow, but she didn't say anything. This time, he let her get back to work in peace.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that, somehow, she understood exactly what he meant.


End file.
